The drive into town from the ranch was tense. Paxon tried to cheer me up but Elliot’s ultimatum kept replaying in my mind.
Leaving would be a snap. All I’d have to do was drop off Pax, pack a bag and hit the highway. Silas would have the ranch and he’d be free to choose someone who met with his father’s approval. I considered it for a millisecond and laughed at myself.
I wouldn’t make it ten miles.
I wasn’t running away again. Not from Prescott and certainly not from Silas. No matter how difficult things got, I was sticking it out this time. Elliot had tried to push me into a corner but the only person he’d trapped was Silas. I didn’t have to make a decision because it wasn’t mine to make.
This was Silas’s choice.
It was his home, his job and his dreams at stake. I’d tell him what Elliot had said and then leave it up to him. I loved him too much to take away his future and make a decision for him. If Silas wanted to cancel the wedding so he could keep the ranch, then I’d honor that choice. Would it hurt? Definitely. But we didn’t need to get married to be happy or to love one another.
If Elliot’s protest was our marriage, then I’d just stay his permanent girlfriend. We’d be like those couples who were completely committed to one another but had chosen not to become husband and wife. We’d be married in spirit.
I could do that.
Yeah, right.
Well, I could try.
By the time Paxon and I arrived at the first showing on my list, I’d managed to shove my personal problems aside and concentrate on doing my job. I focused on finding Paxon a home, rattling off detail after detail as I walked him through the small, two-bedroom, one-bathroom home.
“What do you think?” I asked as I locked up the door.
“It’s nice, but I was hoping for something with more space. Maybe a little more privacy. I don’t know if I want to share a wall with my neighbors.”
“Okay. Then let’s skip the next one since it’s a duplex too and go to the third.” It was the one I’d told him was my favorite.
The house was on the edge of town close to the cemetery. It was in a quiet and peaceful neighborhood with a big yard to separate Paxon from his neighbors. The home itself needed some work, but Pax might like little projects here and there to keep him busy when he wasn’t on the ranch. He seemed happier when he wasn’t idle.
“How are you doing?” I asked as we drove. “We haven’t had the chance to visit much lately.”
“Ha! Me? You’re asking how I’m doing? I think you’re the one with problems today.”
“There’s nothing I can do about my problems until I talk to Silas, so let’s talk about you instead. How have you been feeling?”
He shrugged. “Okay. It’s helped, working at the ranch. I’m usually so tired when I finally make it to bed that I don’t have nightmares as much. The flashbacks are coming less and less during the day too.”
I turned and smiled at him in the passenger seat. “I’m glad.”
He smiled back. “Me too.”
“Here we are.” I pulled up next to a small, two-story beige house. The siding was an old shingle style that could use a fresh coat of paint, the trim around the windows was peeling and needed to be redone, and yellow dandelions were starting to dominate the spring-green yard.
“Don’t judge from the outside,” I said before Paxon could get out. “This place has a lot of potential. It’s not as nice as the duplex we just visited but I think it could be really great with a little work.”
He took a long breath. “Okay. Show me what you’ve got.”
An hour later, Paxon walked out the door as excited as I’d ever seen him.
“I think I could knock out that wall between those two bedrooms upstairs and make it more of a master suite. Maybe plumb in a bathroom.”
“That would certainly increase its resale value.” I opened the back door. “Come on, let’s go check out the yard.”
The lawn around the house was wide open and backed up to the cemetery. Large trees separated the two, but we stood close enough to see American flags sticking out of the ground and a group of people congregating for the Memorial Day ceremony.
“If I put up a fence, I could get a dog,” Paxon said. “I’ve been wanting to get a collie like Dolly.”
“She’s the best dog I’ve—”
Gunshots silenced me. I winced and covered my ears as a twenty-one-gun salute in the cemetery blasted through the air.
I turned to Paxon, ready to explain that he may have to deal with this kind of noise on occasion, but instead found myself flying through the air. In a swift dive, he had tackled me to the ground.
My back landed with a hard jolt and all of the wind rushed out of my lungs. My mouth gulped for air, but with Paxon’s big body on top of mine, I couldn’t get my breath back. Swatting at his sides, my legs writhing beneath his, I tried to get loose but he stayed frozen. His hands were wrapped around the back of his head, and his elbows trapped my head against his chest.
Adrenaline fueled my panic and I bucked my hips as hard as I could, hoping to rock him off my chest. Just an inch or two and I’d be able to breathe again, but the harder I struggled, the more pressure he put on my sternum.
The gunshots continued to echo loudly and my vision started to blur.
This was bad.
By my fourth attempt to buck him off, my energy was drained. I’d never passed out before but I knew it was coming next. My limbs were weak and my head fuzzy. My eyes drifted shut without my permission as my body forced me to sleep.
“Felicity?” Paxon’s frantic voice filled my ears. “Felicity! Wake up!”
The weight on my chest was gone and a loud rasping noise came from my throat as air rushed back in. My lungs burned in protest as I rolled to my side and started coughing. Slowly, I propped myself up on all fours despite the protest in my ribs. Hanging my head, I shifted back into child’s pose. The fresh smell of the lawn filled my nostrils as I forced rough but steady breaths.
Paxon’s hand ran gently down my back. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Felicity. The gunshots . . . I just got spooked.”
After a few minutes, I got my oxygen back and pushed myself up to rest on my knees. “It’s okay.” I was still panting. “I’m okay.”
“Fuck. No, it’s not. I’m so sorry.” He ran his hands through his black hair. “Silas is going to beat my ass for this.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now.” I pushed up from the ground. The back of my white, silk blouse was covered in grass stains and the knees of my new jeans were streaked with dirt. “I think we should call it a day, get back to someplace a little quieter. We can come back here a different day when there isn’t as much activity in the cemetery.”
Paxon’s eyes were full of regret. “I’m so sorry.”
A tear hung from one of his dark lashes and my heart broke. He wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. He’d actually been trying to protect me, except there just wasn’t anything to protect me from.
“Paxon, don’t beat yourself up about this. Okay? I’m fine.”
His hand came up and rubbed the scar on his face, something he seemed to do whenever he was stressed or anxious.
“Okay?” I repeated. He didn’t answer. “Paxon. Look at me.”
His sad eyes found mine.
“I’m okay.”
His shoulders fell and he nodded.
“Come on. Let’s go.” I hustled to lock up the house while he walked to the car. When I joined him inside, I tried to lighten the somber mood. “I’m going to have to increase my rate from five percent to ten to cover the emotional damage of that showing.”
His frame slumped even further into the seat.
“I’m kidding,” I said. “Bad joke. I’ll only bump it to seven.”
A relieved smile spread on his face. Today wasn’t the right time, but soon, I was going to suggest he start seeing someone. It was time for Paxon to get some professional help before something else triggered a flashback and it ended much worse.
“Would you care if we swung by my house so I could grab a clean shirt?”
“No, go ahead.”
We drove the two minutes to my house and parked in the driveway. The neighbors must have been hosting a party because there was a strange truck parked in front.
“Paxon.” I touched his arm before he could open the door. “I really am okay.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Felicity. I really am sorry.”
“No more apologies. Let’s go inside and I’ll introduce you to Khloe.” We got out and walked toward the house. I hoped that Khloe had been baking today so Paxon could have one of her treats. She was keeping me and Silas in desserts, sending me to the store daily for ingredients. My house was the cleanest it had probably ever been and smelled like a bakery.
I was just glad that she was still livid with Derrick and was planning on taking him to the cleaners in the divorce.
“Khloe makes these amazing éclairs. They’ll cheer you right up,” I told Paxon, opening the door to my house.
The smile on my face fell when I saw Khloe pressed up against the kitchen wall. Her legs were dangling a foot off the floor and her fingers were clawing at Derrick’s hands wrapped around her throat.
“Khloe!” I screamed and ran toward her but didn’t get more than five feet inside when a big arm banded around my waist and hauled me backward. “Pax!” I shouted. “Get to Khloe!” I thrashed and kicked at my attacker as Paxon roared behind me. Why wasn’t he going after Derrick?
Twisting my neck, I saw him fighting off a third man. Furniture crashed in the background as they wrestled and both men grunted while fists connected with bone and muscle.
“Let me go!” My captor’s grip tightened as I yelled. His sweaty cheek pressed against mine and his hot beer breath stuck on my neck. He used one of his arms to try and cover my mouth but I thrashed my head and kept kicking.
In front of me, Derrick was choking Khloe cherry red. Her eyes drooped closed and she faded away, lights out.
“Derrick!” I screamed. “Stop!” Why wasn’t he letting her go?
His bloodshot, evil eyes came to me. “Stupid bitch had me thrown in jail!”
His grip on her neck tightened and Khloe’s lips turned blue. Her head was hanging forward as she dangled in the air. He was going to kill her. If we didn’t get to her soon, it could be too late.
“Let her go!” I cried, struggling wildly again.
“Shut her up!” Derrick bellowed.
My attacker grunted, “Shut up,” as his hand found my mouth. Before he could clamp it down, I sank my teeth onto the meaty flesh and bit as hard as I could. The metallic taste of blood hit my tongue at the same time I wound up and thrust my elbow backward into his gut.
“Ahh!” He grunted and jerked back, doubling in half as I wiggled free. I threw myself on the floor, darting toward my fallen purse to frantically dump it out.
Hurry! Where was it?
“Get back here!” the man yelled. He bent to grab me at the waist but I scooted across the floor, stretching for the little black box in front of me.
My fingers touched the plastic and I gripped my weapon tightly. Flicking on the switch, I rolled onto my back. This time when the man came at me, I jabbed my stun gun right in his chest. His body shook with the electric current before he collapsed at my feet.
Kicking away from him, I hurried to my feet. Paxon and the other man were still fighting. I spun around, ready to rescue Khloe, but Derrick had been expecting me.
He had dropped Khloe, unconscious, to the floor so he could come after me instead.